Booze, Bush, and Buddha!
by GhostfaceScylla
Summary: ONE SHOT Crowley and Aziraphale love their wine... Bush gets assailed, other political leaders commented on too. Lara's first venture into the world of Good Omens FF writing. RnR please


            Okay, this is just a short one shot… I've never written a Good Omens fic before, I usually stick to the Anime, so don't be too hard on me. Reviews are much appreciated! ^_^

Booze, Bush, and Buddha

My Crowley/Aziraphale Drunken drabble.

            " 'Nuff said." *hic* Said the angel, in the process of giving Crowley a drunken stare. The demon flopped down on his leather couch next to Aziraphale, pouring himself another glass of a French Blanc du Blanc circa 1823. "My side'll claim Stalin if you'll claim the Cold War."

            "Don't see why anybody has to claim the bloody Cold War. Not a single missle went off! Bloody dissssssapointment if you ask me…"

            Aziraphale was trying very hard not to let his eyes grow crosswise. "Fine, we'll throw the Cold War up to ineffa…ineffa…um, divine planning, *hic* but you gotta take Hitler."

            "Hitler?!" The demon looked down over the rim of his stylish black sunglasses at Aziraphales thoroughly wasted aura. "That French chap?"

            "French? Demon dear, you're thinking of s'mone else."

            " 'M not…. 'S a little man."

            "Napoleon?" Crowley nodded. "No, y' can't have him. S'mine. You c'n have Hitler. He's from one of those little countries that was formerly some other little country. S' black." Crowley was on the verge of saying something in the form of a rebuttal, but he merely filled Aziraphale's empty glass. 

            "Galileo?" He chimed. Aziraphale pointed at Crowley and Crowley pointed back. 

            "Made a sch…sch…"

            "Ssssssschism?"

            "S'right, a schism in the church. S'not one of mine. I thwarted his wiles, anyway."

            The demon's eyes grew wide with drunkenness. "S'fine. He c'n be one of mine. Atleast _he_ could hold his liquor, 'Ziraphale."  Aziraphale stuck his bottom lip out in a very convincing pout. "Aw, *hic* I din't mean it!"

            "What 'bout Karl Marx?"

            "What about Karl Marx, Angel?"

            "S'he one of yours?"

            "Bloody nice man. S'always wanting me to give away something, some kind of collective pot… told him I di'nt want soup, but gent wouldn't listen. Kept saying I was déjà … déjà vu?"

            "No, *hic* I think t'was bourgeoisie."

            "Whatever. S'one of yours." Crowley snapped his fingers like he was thinking of something very important but someone had stolen his tongue. "Buddha!" The demon shouted. Aziraphale jumped up on Crowley's couch and pointed a stone cold finger towards him. 

            "Yours!" he exclaimed, swaying a bit. 

            "Mine? Bloody mine? The bloke was enlightened for chrisss….For ssssssaaat……. For My sake. Why in hell would he be one of ours?"

            Aziraphale fell back down to a sitting position on the couch. "Crawley, do you ever…"

            "That's Crowley, Angel."

            "Sure, sure. Right, right. Making a mental note." Aziraphale tapped his golden locks with one perfectly manicured finger. "What I'm trying to say *hic*… I said, what I was trying to get to *hic*… The point I was trying to make was *hic*… He smiled!"

            "……..*gulp*" Crowley didn't seem to concerned with the profound statement, he downed another glass of champagne and tilted the bottle up to his eyes. "S'all gone. I say, 'Ziraphale, what'd you do with it? Hmm?" He half stumbled off towards his kitchen to fetch a bottle of brandy. Aziraphale stayed behind, talking to himself. 

            "S'got to be from you, demon dear, because he smiled all the time. Bloddy annoying with that purple lotus n'all. Like he knows some big secret. Well, m'an angel. He doesn't know anything I don't know. _I'd like to give him something to smile about, if I could only find that flaming sword. S'a good conversation piece. Crowley, I __said that the chap was bloody annoying!"_

            Crowley returned with more alcohol. "Mmm-hmm. Ssssure he is, spawn of Ssssatan and all. Buddha's right up there with Richard Sssssimmons." Aziraphale shuddered at the name. The only thing more unnerving than the apocalypse was a room full of fifty year old women in not extremely supportive DD cup bras screaming about liking to sweat. Aziraphale was an angel and respected beauty in _all _forms, but you could go overboard. 

            The angel was getting a bit bored. He reached out and picked up the TV remote control on the coffee table. 

            "Nooo!" Crowley screamed. Every plant in the room cowered a bit. "'Zzzzzzziraphale, you're a fop about technology, you c'nt even work the blender!"

            "S'a very complicated blender." The angel sulked as he handed over the remote. The television came on in a whirl of light and sounds. A man stood behind a podium, red white and blue flag blazing behind him. He was making a speech to a bunch of newspaper reporters. 

            "And we will conquer the Axis of Evil to rid the world of terrorism!" He said in a definitive Texas twang.

            "Axis of Evil, Crowley? 'S he talking about you?"

            "He'sssss talking about the Sssssaudi's 'n all the other countriessss with ssssand."          

            "Oh… s'not very nice to pick on people just because they have more sand than you."

            "S' America. S' what they do. To stop would be like you giving up thwarting."  
            

            "Well, at least we know who he belongs to."

            "Yesssss. You."

            "Me? My people don't go round stealing other people's sand. S' hardly angelic. We're all about peace up there you know. You know, brotherly love, that sort of stuff."

            Crowley twisted his face into a question. "Y'are not! Oh, ssssure, you sssay you like the peace and ssstuff, but how else you gonna ssplain all that religious ssssmiting you do? The ten plagues, Killing the first born and all? Turning women into pillarsss of sssalt? The crusades? Yoko Ono?"

            Aziraphale had been quite pleased with his progress in reference to Yoko Ono. In his opinion, young people should _not_ be gyrating their bodies in such a vulgar manner, and while he didn't check, he was sure Heaven had a similar policy. He felt that a good gavotte was much better than any of those new contortionist dances that seemed to be taking over England in the last few years.         

            "I mean, Angel," Crowley continued, extending his finger like he was going to make an extremely relevant point. "Where were you when they shot JFK?"

            "I was in Uraguay… Building n' orphanage for…for orphans. Where were you?"

            "Witnesssssing the birth of Freddy Mercury." Crowley grimaced a bit as the tune to Another One Bites The Dust infiltrated his drunken brain. "But thatsss not the point!"

            "What _is the point?"_

            "Sssslipped my mind………. You never answered me, 'Ziraphale, what about all of the religious smiting?"

            "S' thwarting, my dear boy. See a wile, thwart. I'm a ver…ver.. veritable thwarting machine!" The angel said with the accompaniment of grossly overdone hand gestures. "And Bush. S' not mine. I'm in the process of thwarting his wiles. C'nt possibly be mine. Anyway, just look at his ears. Everyone knows that creatures of Satan have ears the size of small republics!"

            Crowley blushed at this statement. Aziraphale could be terribly tactless sometimes. "He'sss not *hic* mine, A…Az… Angel becaussse I'm wiling him to outdo your thwarting."

            "Well, there can't be a third deity round somewhere. Deity's just don't pop out of clouds, they have to be born, from stardust, and chocolate, and the like. Bush has to belong to one of us. 'Less he's the antichrist or something. It must be more of that ineffa…infalla…insatia…"

            "Angel?"

            "Ineffablilty!"

            "Ssssssshut up."            

            "Right" *gulp*.

There, it's done. Drunken Crowley and Aziraphale are so much fun! Please leave me a review! ^_^ 

            _Al right, I cannot believe that I even have to do this, but here it goes. I received a less than complementary review on this piece, which is perfectly fine because each individual is entitled to their own opinion and I support that. However, the reviewer said that I had offended their person with my references. Let me make this clear: my intention was not to offend anyone at all. My only intention was to get people thinking about things, about how they view the world around them. If you are offended upon reading this FF, then you are missing my point. However, I suppose a reaction (even if it wasn't my desired one) is better than no reaction at all and that is why I have not taken this fic down. Also, if you are offended, contemplate this: the entire book of Good Omens is a commentary on the Christian way of life and the Christian religion(among many, many other numerous, and arguably, more important things). Note the word commentary does not mean "poking fun at something". It is a horrible double standard to say that it is okay to comment on Christianity but not on any other religion, simply what I was trying to do here. Once again, if you are offended, you are entirely missing my message.  _


End file.
